


Top of the List

by silv3rbloodalch3mist



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989), Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Typical College Behavior, alcohol mention, roommate shenanigans, they're both painfully into each other and triton is painfully oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silv3rbloodalch3mist/pseuds/silv3rbloodalch3mist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every Syreina sister had what they liked to call their “Most Awkward Meals with Dad” list. Somehow, Ariel mused, this breakfast had managed to surpass them all and shoot right towards the top. She hadn’t even finished her orange juice yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top of the List

Every Syreina sister had what they liked to call their “Most Awkward Meals with Dad” list. Attina’s, bless her, was short. Mom had still been around to stave off most of the awkwardness through high school, and by the time she passed, Attina was halfway through a business degree and easily Triton’s most affable daughter.

 

Alana, Adella, and Aquata’s weren’t as short, but they stayed under twenty. Arista had twelve alone on the topic of her traveling with her all-male bandmates and more besides, and Andrina’s long list was split between being scolded for the pranks she pulled at school and the dreaded _“Yes, Dad, I am gay, and no, it’s not a phase”_ lunches.

 

But Ariel, the youngest sister and last Syreina girl still in college, beat them all with a whooping fifty-one.

 

And somehow, she mused, this breakfast had managed to surpass them all and shoot right towards the top. She hadn’t even finished her orange juice yet.

 

Not that it was entirely Dad’s fault (this time). Ariel had just finished up her mid-terms, and her roommate Megara had taken advantage of Ariel’s hard After Test Crash to convince her to go with her to some party her boyfriend’s frat house had thrown the night before. Ariel’s hangover wasn’t as bad as Meg’s - judging by the fact that Meg had thrown her stiletto at Ariel’s head with startling accuracy the moment she _considered_ opening the curtains, but she had still had to down two Advils and wear her sunglasses out of the dorm in order to pass as a functioning human being. Her father had made her take the sunglasses off when they sat down at the table, and Ariel’s head was _pounding._

 

As her headache throbbed between her eyes, her father had launched into the typical, semi-passive-aggressive questioning about her classes and life on campus; How had her tests gone? Was she still enjoying living in the dorms? Had she looked into any internships for over the summer? Really, _nothing_ available near home for an Anthropology major? Gosh, what a shocker. Aren’t you glad you “ _pursued your passion_ ” instead of getting a sensible degree?

 

It was around this point that Ariel had discovered that yes, Meg had stolen the flask from her purse at some point, and no, Life was not going to give her a break.

 

To top it all off, Triton had decided to take them to Duke’s, a cozy diner off-campus, for breakfast. Typically, Ariel would’ve had no problem with that. Her friend Tiana worked there in the mornings, and the food was some of the best you could get in their college town. But, much to Ariel’s shock and horror, Tiana was not the only BVU student employed at Duke’s. Oh no, Ariel had lucked out and their waiter was none other than Jim Hawkins; engineering student extraordinaire.

 

He was also the man Ariel had woken up next to two weeks ago at another one of Hercules’ parties; her wearing nothing but his hoodie and her jeans and the two of them completely tangled in the sheets and each other.

 

Needless to say, it was a little awkward.

 

Ariel thanked whatever lucky stars that were still shining over her (hint: none of them) that at least they hadn’t had sex. The embarrassment would have been too much and Ariel would have walked out the second those storm-blue eyes had landed on her. Nope, instead they were a lingering “ _maybe_ ”, which at times almost felt worse. She couldn’t remember much from that night; John Smith had been in charge of alcohol that night and that man mixed everything _way_ too strong, but Ariel remembered enough that the mere sound of his voice sent warm shivers down her spine and she found it impossible to look away from his large, calloused hands.

 

How the hell could he make _pouring coffee_ sexy? It wasn’t fair.

 

Ariel’s phone silently vibrated in her lap as her dad looked over the menu, and she dared to see who had texted her.

 

_(9:54 a.m) how’s Captain Cactus-butt-plug doing this morning_

 

Ah, Meg was up.

 

**(9:55 a.m) dad’s halfway through his ‘anthropology is for hippies’ speech, my pain meds haven’t kicked in yet, and jim h is our server.**

 

     ( _9:57 a.m) hawkins? I thought you liked him_

 

     ( **9:57 a.m) i do. Thats the problem. Remember that party at herc’s two weeks ago when we both stayed the night?**

 

     ( _9:58 a.m) oh shit!!! I totally forgot you two spooned. It awk?_

 

     ( **9:59 a.m) i almost swooned when he poured my dad’s coffee and i can’t make eye contact. Take a wild guess.**

 

“No texting at the table, Ariel,” Triton said with a disapproving frown, and Ariel nearly slammed her phone back on her lap. “You know better.”

 

Ariel shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Sorry Dad, my roomie just woke up and I was letting her know where I was.”

 

“Did you not leave a note? There’s whiteboards on the door, are there not?”

 

“On the outside, yeah.”

 

There was a short snort of laughter behind her, and Ariel turned to find Jim smothering a grin into his palm. She sat forward again, biting her lip to try and control her own smile. The heat slowly moving to her cheeks stopped at her father’s deadpan expression, and Ariel quickly murmured another apology at the table.

 

“So, how is Ms. Megara doing recently? Hopefully she’s managed to avoid another trip to the hospital.” Ariel frowned, eyebrows drawing together as she looked at her father. God, she hated when he got like this; like he thought her friends weren’t good enough, like her _life_ wasn’t good enough. Attina always reminded her that he really did mean well, but Ariel sometimes wanted to take his good intentions and smack him with them.

 

“That was once,” she bit out.

 

“Once is all it takes,” Triton said, his own frown deepening. “I worry about you both; especially about what… _unsavory quirks_ you could pick up from her.”

 

Ariel drew back, face screwing up in distaste. “ _Unsavory_ \- Dad, that’s my best friend you’re talking about!”

 

“She’s your college roommate, it’s temporary.” His voice was flat and drawn, and Ariel felt her hackles rising further. Alana claimed that Ariel was the most like their father; brilliant, loyal, and stubborn to a fault. It was because of this that they constantly butted heads, and Ariel readied herself for another arguement.

 

“So you’re just going to judge her based on one mistake she made almost three years ago!?”

 

“If she’s influencing you to make similar mistakes, then yes, I-”

 

“You ready to order?”

 

Ariel watched all the wind fall out of her father’s sails at the nonchalant interruption, and silently thanked god for Jim. He stood next to the table, face carefully neutral and notepad at the ready. Ariel grabbed the opportunity he had offered her with both hands, and quickly picked up her menu. Just because they argued often didn’t mean she _liked_ fighting with her dad, and the distraction would hopefully be enough to give her a chance to stop it before it started.

 

“Yes, I’d like an order of the french toast,” she began quickly, not giving her father a chance to send Jim off.

 

“It comes with a side of eggs, how do you want them done?”

 

“Scrambled, please.”

 

“Sausage or bacon?”

 

“Sausage.”

 

Jim nodded, jotting it all down on his notepad (oh jeeze, he really did have such nice hands) before turning to Triton. “And you, sir?”

 

Triton ordered quickly, still trying to find his rhythm again after he had been interrupted midway into the beginning of a rant, and Ariel tried not to grin too widely. Jim took their menus after promising to get their food out in around twenty minutes, and their eyes met over the laminated menu. Her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his gaze, and for a moment she wasn’t in a diner sitting across from her father for a painfully awkward breakfast. She was back in that third-story guest room, giggles and bits of hair getting caught between her lips as Jim pulled his hoodie down over her head (“Why do guys get to be shirtless and girls can’t, huh?” “Because gendered double standards are a bitch, and because someone turned the AC up and you’re going to freeze to death otherwise.”) and kissed his way across her cheeks.

 

They stared at each other, caught in the headlights together, and then Jim’s mouth pulled up in a crooked grin so slight that Ariel almost wasn’t sure it was there.

 

“I’ll be back to check up on you folks, food should be out soon,” he said, winking at her before turning and disappearing into the kitchen. Ariel could only stare after him in shock.

 

Oh, screw him.

 

Triton, none the wiser, took a long pull from his coffee and opened his mouth as soon as he set the mug down. Knowing what was coming, Ariel’s hand shot over the table to take his and she looked at him with wide, pleading blue eyes. “Daddy,” she began, “it was three years ago. Meg dumped that guy, she got help, and now she’s one of the best students in the architecture program. If you don’t trust her, trust _me_ ,” she implored. “I’m twenty-one, I’m not a kid anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

 

Triton’s eyebrow crawled towards his hairline as a smile began to grow on his lips.

 

“Kinda,” Ariel conceded. “I still don’t understand how taxes work.”

 

“And that’s what we have Alana for,” Triton teased gently, bringing her hand up to kiss the back. Ariel smiled warmly.

 

“I know there had to be _some_ reason.”

 

From there, they almost managed to have a normal conversation. Whenever he would start to bring up her major, Ariel quickly distracted him by asking about her sisters’ lives, knowing that nothing could get Triton going like a question about one of his beloved girls. Jim had only come over once more to refill their drinks, giving Ariel a silent, questioning look that she responded to with a thankful smile and a nod. She had almost begun to hope that the breakfast could be salvaged when Triton was distracted from his ramblings about the preparations for Adella’s wedding by something over her shoulder, and a particularly wicked gleam entered his eyes.

 

“Eric, my boy!”

 

 _God no shit hell crap nonono I don’t want this stop this now oh_ **_shit_ ** _._

 

Ariel slowly turned in her seat, and sure enough, Eric was frozen by the door; one foot raised behind him like he was getting ready to turn and bolt from the diner. Ariel seriously considered escaping to the bathroom and climbing out the window.

 

Triton was smiling widely, waving the young man over to their table. “Come, come! I haven’t seen you in ages!” With a panicked look towards Ariel, who could only respond with her own grimace, Eric slapped on a painfully awkward smile and walked over to the table.

 

“Mr. Syreina, how are you doing, sir?” he asked with forced cheer, shaking Triton’s proffered hand.

 

“Oh, I’m richly blessed,” he said with a chuckle. “Having breakfast with my beautiful daughter before I have to go on a business trip next week. Have a seat! Tell me how you’ve been doing! Still enjoying your studies?”

 

Eric stiffly took the seat between Triton and Ariel, and Ariel briefly wondered how hard she’d have to jab her fork into her leg in order to be excused from the table. It wasn’t that she disliked Eric; to the contrary, he was her closest friend after Meg.

 

It was just that before they were friends, they had dated briefly, and Triton liked to do everything in his power to try and bring them back together.

 

“Oh, you know,” Eric said with a forced laugh, “it’s about as interesting as pre-med gets.”

 

“You’re in your final year here at Buena Vista, aren’t you? Any plans on where you’re going after?”

 

“Eric is taking a year to tour the coast, actually,” Ariel quickly cut in when Eric floundered for an answer. They had been through this exact same situation so many times in the past three years, you’d think they’d stop being caught off-guard by it. But every time, they struggled to dance in circles around Triton’s pointed comments and suggestions.

 

Eric had offered to just come out and tell her dad that as much as he loved Ariel, them dating again was probably never going to happen, since he discovered not long after they had first stopped that he was ace-aro as hell, but Ariel refused to make him come out to her father before he even told his own parents. Triton had heard “ _Aspiring Doctor from a Family that Owns a Lucrative Boat-Building Business_ ” and decided that Eric would be the perfect partner for his wildest daughter.

 

Ariel was going to need a new “Most Awkward Meals with Dad” meter; this breakfast alone was threatening to break it.

 

As the two men began to speak in more detail about Eric’s sailing plans, Ariel risked pulling her phone out again. There were several messages from Meg waiting for her.

 

     ( _10:01 a.m) damn, have fun with that~_

 

     ( _10:07 a.m) when he asks for your order, make sure you give him a long up-and-down when you say “sausage” lol_

 

     ( _10:24 a.m) did daddy finally bore you to death, girlie?_

 

     ( **10:27 a.m) JIM WINKED AT ME AND THEN ERIC WALKED IN THE DOOR AND DAD INVITED HIM TO THE TABLE AND ITS SO AWKWARD AND I NEED AN O U T. SAVE ME OMG.**

 

     ( _10:27 a.m) holy shit omg_

 

Ariel was about to beg that Meg call and pretend their shower wouldn’t shut off or some other emergency that required her presence when she heard the words “my daughter’s wedding” leave her father’s lips and her blood froze in her veins.

 

“I, uh,” Eric stammered, tapping the arm of his chair so rapidly Ariel wondered if he was begging for help in Morse code. “Well, I should still be in town in May, but-”

 

“Wonderful!” Triton said, clapping his hands together. “You should come! I don’t know if there are invitations left, but,” Triton glanced at Ariel with a pleased grin, “I know that Ariel hasn’t claimed a plus one yet.”

 

Oh _god,_ he didn’t.

 

 **“** I-I-” Eric muttered, looking at Ariel for some sort of clue how to proceed, but the young woman was frozen in panic. If she and Eric went to Adella’s wedding together, no doubt her Aunt Ursula would be there and would spread word of her niece’s “handsome and rich new boyfriend” through every country club and golf course in the county, getting back to Eric’s parents. They had been pushing Eric to find a girlfriend as much as Triton had been pushing Ariel to change her major; who knew how they’d react?

 

However it was, one thing was certain. Eric and Ariel could _not_ go to that wedding as dates.

 

Ariel was about to launch into a very long-winded and probably nonsensical explanation of why Eric just _couldn’t_ go to her sister’s wedding (she had begun to piece something together about Eric being in the witness protection program and their Uncle Hades being a member of the mob that wanted him dead that she thought was rather inspired) when there was a cough from behind Eric.

 

“I didn’t know you were waiting for someone,” Jim said, water pitcher clutched in one hand. “I would have waited to take your order.” His face was back into that careful poker face, projecting the impression of a bored waiter ready to head home, but Ariel had an excellent view of his jawline and it was clenched tightly.

 

“Oh, no, he wasn’t-”

 

“I just- I came in to-”

 

“You’re always welcome to our table, Eric,” Triton said with a grin behind his brilliantly white mustache, clapping Eric’s shoulder. “Go ahead and order, breakfast is on me!”

 

Jim’s throat shifted as he swallowed thickly, shoulders tensing. Ariel wanted to crawl under the table and die. Eric looked like he wanted to join her.

 

“Okay,” he said meekly.

 

“I’ll bring you out a menu to look over,” Jim said, voice even. “Did you want a refill on your water, sir?” he asked Triton.

 

“I’m fine, young man, thank you,” Triton dismissed politely.

 

Jim turned to look at Ariel, and she watched with wide eyes as his wrist went lax as his torso shifted (he had such nice shoulders, she could just stare at his collarbones all day), the water pitcher tipping.

 

“And how about you, ma’am?” Jim asked easily as ice cold water poured out of his pitcher and right onto Eric’s chest and lap. “Refill?”

 

Eric let out a startled yelp, scrambling back away from the table and out of his chair as Triton yelled an indignant “ _Watch it!”_ Jim quickly shifted the pitcher back upright, watching as the water seeped into Eric’s polo and jeans.

 

He shrugged, still looking nonchalant. “Whoops.”

 

Ariel struggled to swallow down her shocked laughter as Triton stood to fuss over Eric. The younger man looked caught between discomfort from the water and relief at the convenient excuse to get away from the table, and Jim was filling Ariel’s glass like nothing had happened. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk for the shortest moment between heartbeats, and if her father wasn’t still glaring at Jim angrily, Ariel would have kissed him full on the mouth.

 

“Come on, son, let’s see if we can’t get you dried off,” Triton said tersely, hand on Eric’s shoulder as he began to lead him towards the men’s room. “And as for you, young man, I will be speaking to your manager about this,” he threatened before disappearing.

 

“No,” Jim said dryly, watching him go. “Stop. Please don’t.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath, and laughter erupted out of Ariel like bubbles racing for the surface.

 

Biting her lip to try and control her smile, Ariel met Jim’s wide eyes and giggled. “Oh my god, you are brilliant,” she gushed. “How did you know we needed a bail-out?”

 

Jim stared at her for a few moments, mouth working around words that didn’t make it past his tongue before shaking his head like he was trying to clear his thoughts. “You looked five seconds away from jumping out a window,” he said, kneeling and pulling out a rag from the back pocket of his jeans ( _yum)._ He began to wipe the excess water from where Eric had been sitting. “It was either Prince Charming’s lap or your dad’s head, and the old guy looked like he could bench press five of me without breaking a sweat. So, you know,” he shrugged, “pick your battles.”

 

Ariel laughed again, watching Jim for a moment before leaning against the table to get closer to the other student. She tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her ears, pulling the red, curled strands over her shoulder in a way Meg had dubbed Hot As Hell.

 

“It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that my dad was trying to set us up?” she teased, propping her chin up on her fist and giggling when Jim’s hand slipped and his elbow crashed into the back of the chair.

 

“Oh, was that what he was doing?” he asked with strained nonchalance. “I didn’t even realize.”

 

Of _course_ he didn’t. Jim was handsome, brilliant, kind, and about as subtle as a brick. He was kind of perfect.

 

“Riiiight,” Ariel said, nodding and playing along with a wide smile. Jim glared at her over his shoulder, and her smile only grew.

 

“Whatever,” he muttered, and she saw his ears begin to turn red. “Anyways, you’re welcome for saving you from sounds like the most awkward wedding date _ever_.”

 

“God, you don’t even know,” Ariel groaned. “Um, you’re not actually going to get in trouble, are you?”

 

Jim shook his head, leaning back on his haunches to consider the chair he had been wiping dry. “Nah, Silver will probably just slap me on the wrist for pissing off a customer and then forget about it,” he reassured. “Besides, it was worth it,” he continued, peering at her through strands of chestnut hair as a grin began to curl his lips. “If you died of embarrassment, who’s to say I’d ever get my hoodie back?”

 

It was Ariel’s turn to have the blood rush to her face, and she just knew that her red cheeks were clashing horribly with her hair. She wasn't about to admit that his hoodie was carefully draped over the footboard of her bed, always available for her to grab in case the temperature in their dorm dropped. She definitely didn’t mention how many times in the past two weeks she had worn it while studying because the smell of his soap and motor oil chased her stress away.

 

Oh jeeze, a few semesters of sharing Gen Ed classes and one night of drunken cuddling and not-exactly-making-out and she was already _sunk._ And to think, she used to insist Adella was the hopeless romantic of the family.

 

“Who’s to say you’ll get it back at all?” Ariel tried to fire back, but Jim was watching her with a crooked, confident smile that made her heart thud loudly in her chest. His forearms were braced against his knees as he considered her, and she resisted the urge to twist a strand of hair around her finger like a lovestruck school girl.

 

“I better get it back,” he said, pointing at her. “Do you know how hard it is to get a hoodie to that level of Perfect Comfy?”

 

“I’m sure you could pull it off if you tried your _very_ best.”

 

“That sounds like way too much effort.”

 

“Then you better come and get it, hm?” Ariel challenged with a tilt of her head.

 

Jim’s smile grew into a grin. “Is that an invitation?” he asked, running his long fingers through his hair and pushing his bangs out of his eyes. Ariel nearly swooned.

 

“There’s a toll, you know,” she teased. “Meg insisted.”

 

“Name your price,” he fired back.

 

“Salty sweet snacks, sugary drinks, and a movie of your choosing.” Oh god, were they really?

 

“And I’ll get my hoodie back after the movie is done?” Oh god, they _were._ Ariel resisted the urge to jump up and down on her chair and scream in excitement.

 

“We’ll see how good your taste in movies is and go from there,” she bartered, leaning back with a confident grin that she hoped didn’t look too girlishly giddy. Jim smiled back, holding out his broad hand.

 

“Deal.”

 

They shook hands, Ariel’s slim fingers warming instantly as his calloused fingers wrapped around them. He didn’t let go of her hand as he pushed himself back to standing upright, and Ariel had to tilt her head back just to make eye contact.

 

“When does your shift end?” she asked, sounding - and feeling - a little out of breath.

 

“I’m here ‘til three,” he told her. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet. She didn’t ask him to.

 

“So, I’ll see you at six then?”

 

He smiled at her warmly, and her tongue dried up in her mouth and her breath rattled in her chest. Jim nodded, squeezing her hand once more before letting go.

 

“It’s a date,” he said, smiling, and Ariel really did swoon that time. Just a little bit. “Blair Hall, right?”

 

“Room 9D,” she confirmed.

 

“I’ll be there.” His eyes shifted to somewhere just past her head, and he grimaced. “And now I should probably go before your dad comes back,” Jim whispered, quickly stepping away from the table. “Hopefully your food is done, and I can use that as an offering so he doesn’t hate me too much.”

 

“Get to it, Hawkins,” Ariel said with a laugh, watching him go with a goofy smile stretching her mouth.

 

“Well, I called Eric a cab so he didn’t have to walk home in soaking wet clothes,” Triton said with a sigh as he sunk back into his chair, oblivious to the rosy flush on his daughter’s cheeks and her smothered smile. “Apparently he was here to discuss a group project with one of the employees, but he reassured me he had other means of contacting them.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Ariel said with a distracted sigh, bracing herself against the table and smiling as she spotted Jim, red-faced, throwing his rag at a laughing Tiana. She giggled, and the happy sound was enough to catch Triton’s attention.

 

“What?” he asked in confusion, trying to lean forward and see whatever had his little girl looking so dreamy. “What is it?”

 

“Oh, nothing Dad,” Ariel said, turning back to face her dad with a grin. She leaned over the table, kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> May write a follow-up to this about the party they went to. But for now, I mostly wrote it because I wanted to have Jim pour water on Eric for some reason lol.


End file.
